Some say the paper calls to you,

And I say that's not true!

Mine ran and hid when it saw my pen.

It was my last piece of paper too.

Finally, I managed to drag it out,

But it struggled the entire time.

I stapled the dumb thing to my desk

And sat back down to write and rhyme.

Then, all of a sudden, my mind went blank!

Of course, I blame the paper.

The poor, thin wretch who was stapled so crudely,

Begged me to do it later.

But I would not procrastinate!

And that's when things were ugly.

The paper rebelled against the writer,

Abusing me relentlessly.

He said he was sick of my spelling-

My grammar and mechanics too.

That all my bad ideas stunk and

My poor handwriting should sue.

With a stapled paper mocking me

I felt like such a loser-

When it tore itself from its fastened staples

And dashed out towards the window!

I swear I won't forget how

I wept and reached out hopelessly,

As my paper flew away from me

And its final cry for liberty!

So, really it's my paper's fault

That I didn't bring a lot.

After trying so hard to do my homework,

This excuse is all I've got.